


Battle Scars

by thecutestprince



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Gen, Trans Male Character, Trans Peter Parker, Trans Tony Stark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-04
Updated: 2017-08-04
Packaged: 2018-12-11 00:32:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11703063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thecutestprince/pseuds/thecutestprince
Summary: A one-shot I wrote over the course of a day. Homecoming AU where everything is the same, except Peter is trans and dealing with that, on top of everything else.





	Battle Scars

**Author's Note:**

  * For [the transphobes](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=the+transphobes).



> inspired by an unfortunate argument where transphobic things were said, which went nowhere and did nothing but inspire me to write about trans peter parker out of spite. enjoy!

He looked at himself in the mirror.

Baby soft skin. Bare chest. Round curves. 

No hard edges. No rough shadows. 

He crossed his arms across his chest, hunching forward, looking away from his reflection. Unable to look at it. 

"I'm Spider-man," he said to himself in a soft, weak whisper. His shoulders were hunched and his head was pounding. He was unsteady and uneasy. 

He looked back at his bed. At the worn down suit resting atop it, the different components of it. The hoodie, the joggers, and the shitty mask. He looked at the torn up binder laying on top of it all.

"I'm still Spider-man," he tried to convince himself.

Getting another binder would be hell. 

 

The door of his hotel room swung open. Peter squeaked, shrinking into himself. Mr. Stark stepped inside. He paused. 

"You fought in that?"

Mr. Stark looked at him with sharp, unmoving eyes. Peter shrank into himself further, trying to hide his almost naked body. He was only in his binder and his boxer briefs, his new suit pooled at his ankles on the floor. Without it, he felt entirely exposed. 

He hated being shirtless. 

"Y'know, some people knock before entering another person's room!"

"Tony doesn't knock," Happy called out from the other room. Peter's eyes darted towards the open door. His throat felt tight. He opened his mouth to yell out.

"Gimme a sec." Mr. Stark held out a hand towards Happy, as if to prevent him from entering Peter's room. He closed the door which joined their rooms. 

Peter sighed in relief. He had been holding his breath. 

"Why didn't you tell me?"

Peter tried to act clueless. "What? You're not a boxer briefs guy? They're really comfortable, you know. Not as loose as regular boxers, that let everything just hang abou-"

"Stop," Mr. Stark cut him off, bringing a hand to his forehead. "Jesus christ, kid. Not the briefs. The binder."

Peter went red, and the color spread from his face to his chest. This was not a conversation he wanted to be having with freakin Iron Man. 

"Do you know how dangerous it is to do what you do in one of those?" Mr. Stark stepped forward, but stopped as soon as Peter took a step back. He narrowed his eyes, examining him. "Is that even the right size?"

"What?! Of course it is!"

"It looks too small. Where'd you order it?"

Peter clamped his mouth shut.

"eBay?"

He nodded. Mr. Stark sighed. 

"Take that thing off, and I'll have a new one for you soon, alright? Text me your chest measurements. I'm gonna have to remake your suit, too."

Peter stayed silent, looking down at his fidgeting hands. Mr. Stark turned for the door. 

"I'm sorry," Peter finally said. "That I didn't tell you. About. Yeah."

"No, I'm sorry I didn't knock. I mean, I'm kind of not because if I hadn't found out like this, you could've gotten hurt. But still, I should've found out on your terms, Peter."

Peter was finally able to look at him. Mr. Stark was smiling softly at him, just barely. Peter couldn't help but grin widely.

Mr. Stark turned to the door. "Alright. Put some damn clothes on."

 

"Did you have fun with Tony?" Aunt May asked him as soon as he got home. He hid his new suit in his room, then collapsed on their couch. He wasn't up for conversation, but he mustered up the strength. For May. 

"I did! He's really great," Peter said, letting his head roll back against the couch. May sat down next to him. "He's a really fun guy to be around."

"Kind of an asshole?" May asked.

"Kind of an asshole," he agreed.

They both laughed, and once they fell into silence, Peter caught May smiling wide at him.

"What?" he asked, scrunching up his face.

"Nothing." May shook her head. "Nothing, I'm just... I'm very glad you have a man like Tony that you can look up to."

Peter's insides went warm, and his chest felt tight. He thought of the binders he had ordered him. Black, white, nude, and one with his suit's design. He thought of the new suit he made him, so it would fit his body better.

"I'll hold on to this one," Mr. Stark had said, referring to his old suit. "In case you decide to get top surgery. It'll probably fit then."

"Oh, uh, thanks. I never really think of that as an option," Peter admitted. He scratched the back of his head. "I don't think I'd have the, um, the money. For that." Even though he had come to that conclusion on his own a long while ago, it had still been hard to say out loud. 

Mr. Stark looked at him with stern eyes. "I'll pay for it. Just let me know if that's what you want to do. I'll handle the rest."

Peter snapped back to reality. To Aunt May smiling at him. "Me too," he agreed. 

 

His packer went missing.

He went through his entire locker, and started dumping everything out. He tossed out his sneakers, his gym shorts, everything. His packer was missing, and his stomach felt like lead. 

"Looking for this, Penis Parker?"

Peter's head snapped away from his locker and towards Flash. Flash held the packer high in the air, shit-eating grin plastered firmly on his shit-eating face. 

"Look," he exclaimed, tears of laughter in his eyes. "It's Penis Parker's toy penis!"

The locker room erupted, joining into Flash's howls of laughter.

"Sick!"

"That's gross, bro."

"Fucking freak."

Peter inhaled sharply. Tears stung at his eyes. His lungs were full of flame.

Flash waved the packer around.

Peter slammed his locker shut. The laughter died down as the clang of metal resonated throughout the room. Flash's grin remained, even as Peter stomped over to him, fists clenched.

It was the first time he had ever punched a student.

 

Flash didn't fight back. "You're not supposed to hit girls," he told his peers.

 

Peter and Ned sat in Peter's room, silently building their Death Star. Peter was still fuming from his fight with Flash. Laughter rang in his head all day long. 

"I think I'm going to get top surgery."

Ned looked up from the section he was building. "Really? I thought..."

"Mr. Stark said he'd pay for it. He said he'd set me up with the best doctors."

"That's really cool of him," Ned said, smiling. Peter couldn't help but smile back.

"Yeah! He's making this whole thing a lot easier for me," he added softly.

"He's like... a really cool, really hot dad."

Peter gave him a look of disgust.

"With super powers!" Ned added.

"Stop," Peter shook his head. "I'm still not over the fact that you just called him hot."

"He is!"

Peter threw a lego block, and it hit Ned right between the eyes. 

 

The night before his surgery, he couldn't sleep. He lay awake in his hotel room, staring at the ceiling. He contemplated pulling his suit on, and talking to Karen. 

There was a knock on his door.

"Come in!" Peter called out. Mr Stark walked in, and he sat up.

"Hey kid." He took a seat at the edge of Peter's bed. "Nervous?"

"Yeah," Peter nodded. "I hope I heal really quickly. What'll Queens do without their friendly neighborhood Spider-man?"

"Is that what you're worrying about? Kid, give yourself a break. You need the rest. Don't stress yourself out."

"I'm not stressed!"

Tony raised an eyebrow. He knew stress when he saw it.

"How's school?"

"'s good."

"That Flash kid giving you a rough time?"

Peter frowned. How did he know about Flash?

"Nah. He doesn't really bother me. Not since I totaled his car. I just think of that if he's ever bothering me."

Tony chuckled. "That'll do it."

They sat there in silence. Peter usually fills the silence with his constant babbling, but he was too anxious to speak. And Tony recognized this. 

Peter scratched his arm. "Hey, um... do you have me figured out? Like, my body? How it heals and stuff?"

Mr. Stark looked at him, waiting for an elaboration.

Peter looked down at his now crossed legs. "Do you... know if I'll scar?"

Tony straightened up. "Well... have you scarred before?"

"Yeah. Deeper cuts take longer to heal up, but..." He swallowed. "I haven't had surgery so... I don't know what to expect this time around."

Tony nods. "Whether you scar or not, though, you'll look great, right?"

Peter had been saying that, trying to reassure himself. It was good to hear it from someone else, though. Someone so much stronger. 

Mr. Stark gave him a quick pat on the knee. "Get some sleep, Spidey."

 

Peter stood in front of his mirror. The scars on his chest were already fading, though still visible. His body definitely healed quicker than the average dude, and he was definitely thankful for it.

Of course, there was more to be thankful for. 

He snapped a picture of himself, flexing, scars and all. He uploaded the mirror-selfie, and captioned it, "Battle scars." He left his phone on his desk, and went to show Aunt May his progress.

When he came back, his phone was blowing up. Hundreds of likes and encouraging comments were posted on his photo. 

"No way," he whispered, taking a seat on his desk chair. How did his picture blow up so quickly?

More notifications piled in, and he realized something. He had been tagged in a picture.

He had been tagged in Tony Stark's newest picture.

It was a mirror-selfie, just like his. He was flexing, putting Peter's teeny arms to shame. More importantly, Tony Stark was shirtless, and showing off visible scars on his chest.

It was captioned, "Battle scars." 

 


End file.
